


First Shots

by neversaydie



Series: cock it and pull it [3]
Category: King Falls AM (Podcast)
Genre: Anxiety, College, First Meetings, Hook-Up, M/M, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-22
Updated: 2018-02-22
Packaged: 2019-03-22 15:47:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13767354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neversaydie/pseuds/neversaydie
Summary: The beginnings of 'Shotgun Sammy' are born from a combination of a flask of vodka and an ill advised hookup.Not literally. Well, not this time around, as far as he knows. He never asked his parents exactly where little Samuel Stevens came from, after all.Anyway, that's not how the story starts.





	First Shots

The beginnings of 'Shotgun Sammy' are born from a combination of a flask of vodka and an ill advised hookup.   
  
Not literally. Well, not this time around, as far as he knows. He never asked his parents exactly where little Samuel Stevens came from, after all.

Anyway, that's not how the story starts.    
  
The first half of his first year of college is hell. Pre-Shotgun, he's a skinny nerd wracked with social anxiety, who moves halfway across the country to go to college away from anyone who knew him in high school... and realises too late that doing so has left him isolated as hell. He's too shy to attend any of the mixers for his media and journalism course, doesn't play any sports, and he's so far in the closet he might as well be in Narnia. 

His douchey roommate - who he's pretty sure assumes he's gay despite the fact he invented a fictional ex-girlfriend and gave her a backstory for this exact purpose (and doesn't that make his heart beat too fast when he lies awake at night wondering if  _ this  _ will be when he gets found out) - takes to college life like a duck to water (with all the  _ social life _ that entails), which means Sam spends a lot of nights at the library - ostensibly studying but mostly listening to the college radio station and trying not to fall asleep too obviously in case the night guard kicks him out. It's miserable, but it's better than trying to ignore his roommate hooking up with someone yet again.   
  
He's still just Sam, at this point. His life is quite cleanly divided in two, from his perspective: Pre-Shotgun and After-Shotgun. Pre-mess and... well, he's pretty sure he hasn't hit 'after-mess' almost two decades later.  
  
One not so special night - sometime after he's begun to consider dropping out but before he makes up his mind to stay - Just Sam is bent over a desk in the history section on the third floor, shoulders and back growing stiff and uncomfortable as he tries valiantly to comprehend the same line of the same article he's been reading for the past half hour. 

_ Although there is disputed evidence which suggests sightings of the so-called sasquatch in Sweetzer Forest (located between Route 72 and mountain town Big Pine), there remains no scientific proof… _

A weak burst of concentration confirms that he's managed to zone out long enough to overshoot the piece about apophenia entirely… and is now zombie-staring at an article about Bigfoot. He needs to sleep. 

"You okay, man?" Sam nearly jumps out of his skin at the voice coming from behind his right shoulder, and whips around to see a dark-haired, freckled guy with half a grin on his face standing right behind him. 

"Jesus!" Sam might actually clutch his hand to his heart like an aghast old lady. Perhaps. His exact movements in that moment are one of the few embarrassing things history has let him forget over the years. 

The guy puts his hand up at the sudden movement, smile turning uncertain as he gentles Sam like a startled horse.  
  
"Sorry, didn't mean to scare you," the smile returns when Sam lets out a half-laugh as the adrenaline spike wears off, and oh fuck. He's hot. "You've just been staring at that page for like forty minutes and you looked kinda upset."

"I'm fine, thanks," Sam scrubs a hand over his face and shakes his head, resisting the urge to laugh again at the state of his life right now. The one time a guy so much as speaks to him and he looks like he's going to drop dead. "I'm just tired and… You were watching me for forty minutes?"

The incredulity must show on his face, because the guy turns pink to the tips of his ears and… okay, it's cuter than it has any right to be. Sam knew theoretically he was into guys - it's not like he's had much of a chance to test that theory in his podunk high school in homophobe nowhere - but damn if he hasn't just had that confirmed beyond a shadow of a doubt. 

"I wasn't, like…" he swipes his tongue over his bottom lip and catches Sam following that movement with suddenly hungry eyes. Something in the air between them changes, imperceptibly, and the guy's expression turns playful, concern disappearing altogether. "I'm Eric."

"Sam," he twitches a smile back, more nervous than he intends to let on, but Eric must read the pale knuckles around the edge of his book and stiffness of his shoulders because the next offer comes out a little softer than Sam expected. 

"Hi, Sam," he gestures vaguely towards the other side of the floor, beyond the fire doors and the fluorescently-lit staircase which smells like illicit cigarettes and chlorine. "I've got a flask in my bag and was about to take a study break… if you wanna join me, or whatever."

"Yeah," even nerdy, skinny, never been kissed Sam Stevens knows what  _ study break _ means when it creeps from someone's lips like that, and he ignores his sweaty palms as he nods. "Yeah, sure."

Thirty minutes later, Sam is tipsy and his head is spinning as he gets his dick sucked in the men's bathroom on the other side of the history section. He wobbles to his knees afterwards to return the favour, and Eric tangles fingers in his hair and  _ pulls  _ and calls him  _ Sammy  _ when he comes. 

He introduces himself as Sammy after that. It sounds like someone confident. Like someone he wants to be.

 

He's been Sammy for a while by the time the Wrights come into his life.

Jack and Lily are… intimidating. 

They stand out because of the twin thing, first of all. They're obviously not identical, but they share the same clear blue eyes and sandy hair, and Sammy is struck into breathlessness the first time they walk into his communications unit at the start of his second year. He's pretty sure half the class is, if the way bags are hastily shuffled off spare chairs and longing looks are cast when the pair pass a particular row of the lecture hall are anything to go by. 

Ignoring their unsubtle admirers with the confidence of people who know they're hot, Lily and Jack climb the stairs to only a few rows shy of the very back of the hall, straight to the corner where Sammy is suddenly rethinking all his newly-found confidence. A couple of drunken hookups and learning that it helps to take a shot or two before a particularly busy class is nothing compared to the sudden flight response inspired by being approached by two of the most attractive people he's ever seen who weren't on TV. 

Jack points to the empty seats - chipped black nail polish a flash on his fingers and well, that's a thing Sammy didn't know he appreciated quite so viscerally - and changes Sammy's life forever with "Can we sit with you?"

Not next to him,  _ with  _ him. 

Fuck. 


End file.
